


Have You Tried Turning It Off And On Again?

by Slenderlock



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: M/M, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2039571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenderlock/pseuds/Slenderlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn’t long after Elder Price and Elder Cunningham appear in Uganda that Connor McKinley realizes that Turning It Off is going to be a lot harder than it used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have You Tried Turning It Off And On Again?

It isn’t long after Elder Price and Elder Cunningham appear in Uganda that Connor McKinley realizes that Turning It Off is going to be a lot harder than it used to be.

To make things worse, Elder Price is actually, quite literally, the most completely perfect person that Connor has ever seen. He’s smart, he’s charismatic, he’s the best Mormon anyone could ask for, and he’s absolutely completely beautiful.

There’s no point trying to crush that one, not with the fact that Elder Price is living in the same building as them. Connor sees him every day, talks to him every day, breathes the same air as him every day. It’s wonderful.

He tells himself that it’s normal to appreciate the aesthetic beauty of any other person. It’s not like he’s imagining taking Elder Price out to a dinner date somewhere in Paris, where they drink wine casually before retiring back to their little hotel room where the man working there doesn’t speak a word of English. It’s not like he fantasizes about crawling in bed next to Elder Price, slowly helping him out of his white standard shirt and black trousers, slipping that tie off around his neck, pressing his lips to that collarbone-

No, it’s not like he’s imagining anything like that.

So when Elder Price comes back to the house one day and rips his tie off with a sort of grunt, Connor does _not_ lose focus entirely on whatever it was he had been doing. Elder Price runs his hands through his hair, scratches his neck. He does it all with a grim expression plastered on his otherwise flawless face.

“Elder McKinley?”

Connor blinks. He focuses on the person standing in front of him, the person that- oh, right, he’d been saying something. Poptarts frowns slightly.

“You okay, there?”

“Fine, fine, yeah, fine,” Connor says, shaking his head. “Sorry, right. What were you saying?”

When Poptarts finishes telling him about the proposed idea of a game night (“It’d be fun, we could play poker! My mom’s biweekly mail should come tomorrow, so we could use poptarts as bartering!”), Connor sits down next to the dejected looking Elder Price.

“Everything all right, there?” he asks, which is a stupid question. They’re stuck in Uganda, trying to recruit a group of people who curse out The Heavenly Father casually, and they’ve got nobody but themselves to really talk to. But Elder Price usually looks so chipper, Connor thinks. Something really must have happened to make him this down.

“Not really,” Elder Price admits, shrugging. He slowly drains a glass of water. Connor most certainly does not watch his throat as he does so.

“Sometimes,” he says, stops to consider what he is saying, and presses forward anyway. “Sometimes Turning It Off doesn’t always work. Sometimes you have to find other ways.”

Elder Price raises an eyebrow. “You know this from experience?” he prompts.

“Me? Oh, no. No, not me,” Connor says, laughing a little. “Back when we were being trained, I had a friend, Elder Wilson. And his grandmother died. A few people tried to teach him how to Turn It Off, but it wasn’t working.”

Elder Price, Connor notices, stops slouching quite as much.

“I, well, I asked him if there was anything I could do to help him, and he told me to listen. And I did. He told me all about his grandmother, how she’d buy him sweets when he was a child, how she’d let him do things that his parents wouldn’t- and that the church would frown upon, of course. How she always loved every part of him, even when his parents didn’t.  He told me all these stories about his grandmother, and then talked about how lost he felt without her.” Connor smiles fondly. “And then he said he felt better, after talking. That he’d just needed someone to be there for him, to be, you know, present.”

“What are you saying?” Elder Price asks, looking across the table at Connor.

“Just, that. If. You ever needed someone to talk to. I mean, not necessarily need, if you ever _want_ someone to talk to- you can talk to me.”

“That’s… very kind of you,” Elder Price says, smiling genuinely. Connor knows each and every one of Elder Price’s smiles, and even though he hasn’t seen this smile before, he knows that it’s a real one. “Thank you.”

That night, when Connor wakes from another hell dream covered in cold sweat and shaking, he remembers Elder Price’s smile. He closes his eyes and falls back asleep, dreaming instead of hands and legs and collarbones.

o0O0o

Kevin Price hasn’t been this confused since the first time he attempted to tie his own tie.

It’s not like he’s having doubts about the church, or even like he’s doubting the Book, it’s just… it’s just that Elder McKinley has done a rather terrible job of Turning It Off, and done a rather spectacular job of Turning It _On._ No pun intended.

It’s the little things that Kevin can’t really stop thinking about. It’s not like they dominate his everyday thinking, but they do take up rather a lot of space.

It starts off when he realizes quite quickly exactly what Elder McKinley spends a lot of time thinking about. It’s not too difficult to guess, but the other Elders have all mutually decided to ignore it in his favor. Kevin can’t quite bring himself to do that. It’s obvious to him, especially in the mornings when Elder McKinley slumps through breakfast, showing off the gigantic bags under his eyes that signify yet another night of guilt ridden hell dreams. He is so obviously suffering, and Kevin’s heart aches at the fact that there is absolutely nothing he can do. He may not know Elder McKinley very well, but he can tell when someone is having a difficult time.

One night, he passes by Elder Church and Elder Thomas, who are sitting next to one another on the couch and speaking in hushed tones. Vaguely, Kevin remembers Rule 72, but decides that for everyone’s sake, it really doesn’t matter all that much.

“I mean, I haven’t seen Connor like this before,” Elder Thomas says, shrugging. “I’m getting worried about him, if I’m being completely honest with myself and with you. Which of course I am, because Mormons don’t lie.”

Elder Church nods. “I know what you mean. Does he always have them _every_ night?”

“He does now,” Elder Thomas says, nodding grimly. “It’s been hard sleeping next to him. But I don’t know why he is, is the problem. Something must have happened- if he’s bearing that much guilt inside him- you don’t think he did something bad, do you?” Elder Thomas looks to Elder Church with true panic.

“No, no,” Elder Church assures him. “No, I don’t think Connor would do anything out of line. Yes, he has a harder time with the church’s rules than the rest of us, but- but he _loves_ the church, doesn’t he? He would never do anything that would upset them, I’m sure of it.”

“Then do you think something might have happened to him?” Elder Thomas asks.

“Have you asked him about it?”

“Yes,” Elder Thomas insists. “But he always insists that it’s normal, that there’s nothing to worry about. He’s- he’s falling apart at the seams.”

“Well,” says Elder Church, and Kevin has a horrible feeling that he knows exactly where Elder Church is going. “If you can’t do anything about it, and technically it’s not your problem to fix, then I guess the only way to deal with it is to Turn It Off.”

“That doesn’t really seem fair to him, though,” Elder Thomas protests.

“It’ll make you happier and healthier. Just imagine you don’t know anything is wrong, and I’m sure the problem will sort itself out.” Elder Church smiles brightly. “Come on, I’ll do it with you.”

Kevin can’t take any more of this. He retreats back to his room to think.

Connor- that must be Elder McKinley’s name, because who else had hell dreams nightly- apparently attracts more attention than just Kevin’s eyes. That’s it, Kevin decides. If the other elders can see clearly what’s going on and then choose to do nothing about it, then it’s time for him to do something. After all, he’s here to do something incredible. And what’s more incredible then helping out a friend in need? Yes, Kevin thinks. He’s going to be the best friend he can be; he’s going to help Elder McKinley.

So when Elder McKinley sits down next to him after a particularly rough day and tells _Kevin_ that _he’s_ always open to talk to, Kevin doesn’t really know what to say. It just doesn’t seem fair. Why should Elder McKinley feel the need to offer help to others like that, to offer comfort when there was no comfort given? None of the other elders had ever extended a hand towards Elder McKinley, so why should he want to help them?

“Elder McKinley,” he says, the next morning. “About what you said last night, I just… want you to know that I’d be happy to do the same for you.”

“Oh,” Elder McKinley says, rather faintly. He must have had a pretty bad dream last night, Kevin thinks. “That’s… really not necessary, I’m all right.”

“I mean it,” Kevin presses. “If you ever have problems Turning It Off,” he says, voice low enough that he knows none of the other Elders can hear them, “then you can come to me, all right? I was listening to some of the other elders, and we’re worried about you. So if you ever need anything, anything at all, just come to me, all right?”

Elder McKinley just sort of stares at him for a few seconds, before he seems to snap out of it. “Oh! That’s… that’s incredibly kind of you, Elder Price, I don’t know what-”

“Kevin,” says Kevin. “Though you probably already knew that.”

“I  did,” Elder McKinley confirms. “I’m Connor. You probably didn’t already know that.”

“Actually, I sort of did,” Kevin confesses. “I heard some of the other elders talking about you.”

“Good things?” Elder McKinley asks.

“Mostly,” Kevin teases, throwing in a wink. Looking back at it, he will never quite remember why he throws in that wink. But he doesn’t really regret it, because then Elder McKinley does a sort of _thing_ that Kevin can’t help but think is entirely adorable, and gosh darn it he’s not supposed to think that-

“Right,” Elder McKinley says, in a strained voice. “Thank you, then, Kevin,” he says, and it’s the first time since he’s left home that Kevin’s heard his first name spoken. It feels strange, but not completely wrong. He nods.

That night, he floats on cloud _ten._

o0O0o

It’s just not _fair._

He’s nineteen years old, he thinks to himself, as he washes his underclothes grumpily, out of sight of the rest of the Elders. This shouldn’t be happening to him anymore.

But he doesn’t mean that it’s not fair about that. It’s just nature’s way of things, he reminds himself. No, it’s not fair that Elder Price is so gosh darn _perfect._ It makes him want to tap dance all his frustration away, but obviously he can’t do that.

But really, why? Why does he have to be so charming and nice and not even forced polite? Because Connor can tell the difference between when an Elder’s being polite because they’re supposed to be and when an Elder’s actually being polite, and Elder Price definitely falls into the latter category.

He hasn’t made a baptism in weeks- well, technically none of them have, but he hasn’t even gotten around to trying yet- he’s had less than six hours of sleep every night, and he’s completely lost his appetite.

He doesn’t know what to do. It’s not like he can just _stop_ thinking these things. He’s tried. No matter what he does, he can’t stop thinking like this, and it’s driving him crazy.

At night, it’s a tossup between dreams of hands, mouths, skin, lips, and dreams of fire, punishment, death, and guilt. He doesn’t do anything about them, doesn’t talk to anyone about them, because as exhausting and horrible as the hell dreams are, the other ones make it all worth it.

So they fall into a pattern.

Connor battles his dreams, Kevin worries constantly, and the other Elders pretend nothing is wrong. It works perfectly.

o0O0o

Of course, Arnold then careens through their system and ruins absolutely everything.

Well. ‘Ruins’ is a harsh word, Kevin supposes. Perhaps ‘alters’ would be more fitting.

After somehow managing to convince the rest of the Elders to stay for the remaining almost two years they have left, no one really knows what to believe anymore. They of course still subscribe to the Book, but there are just some things they don’t do anymore.

For instance, Rule 72 is practically nonexistent, now. In fact, most of the rules are. They follow some by habit, of course, but with an understanding that things aren’t really just the way they used to be.

Which makes Kevin’s attention attach itself now even more firmly upon Elder McKinley.

One thing that hasn’t changed is the Elders’ remarkable talent for ignoring important things. Nowhere is this more true than in the case of Elder McKinley.

None of them really know what to do about him. Now that all the rules are up for grabs, pick and choose style, what is he supposed to do? Some of the Elders have taken to drinking coffee now, and while some of the others don’t, no one is being shamed for it. Would the same hold true for Elder McKinley?

While none of it makes any sense, Kevin does notice one thing.

The hell dreams are still there.

o0O0o

They’re walking on a fine line, here, between freedom and betrayal. Because they’re not really officially Mormons anymore, the rules don’t really count, right? But the rules are what make them _them._ Without rules, who would they even be?

“Connor,” he hears, and turns. Elder Price joins him, a cup of coffee in his hands. Connor looks at it dubiously, scooting over on the rock so that Elder Price has more space to sit.

“Elder Price- uh, Kevin,” he greets. If Elder Price is greeting him by first name, then he should do the same, right? It just still feels a little strange to think of him by first name.

“You look tired,” Elder Price says.

“Yes, well,” Connor says, shrugging. Even now that they’re making up their own rules, he still can’t shake the feeling of guilt that arises every time he imagines- no, no, stop. “You got a taste of the dreams, didn’t you? They don’t lend themselves to easy sleep.”

“No, no, they don’t,” Elder Price agrees. He takes a sip of his coffee. “You know,” he continues, looking over at Connor. “A lot of things have changed, now.”

“Yes, they have,” Connor agrees, crossing his legs and leaning back on the rock. Without the Mormon-issued undergarments, the sun feels much less overbearing.

“I mean, I don’t feel bad about drinking coffee. I like it, actually,” Elder Price says. He takes another sip of the drink, proving his own point.

“Yes, well.” Connor shrugs. “I think it smells vile, actually.”

“Then you never had a problem with the no-coffee rule, did you?”

“No, never.” Connor cracks a weary smile.

“Look,” says Elder Price. “My point is, is that, if. If you’re still having trouble with the rules, then maybe.” He lifts the coffee to his lips again. His perfect lips- no, stop. “Maybe,” Elder Price continues, with a little bit of gusto, “maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Perhaps the coffee is affecting you more than you think,” Connor says, staring at the clouds above them and trying to make out shapes.

“No, no, I just mean- you don’t have to, you know. Turn It Off. If you don’t want to. Or you can’t.”

“What-” Connor looks over sharply. “Elder- Kevin, sorry, I- what do you mean?”

Kevin sets the coffee down on the rock and smiles that smile of his, that beautiful smile that always makes something inside of him flutter.

“I’m just saying that I don’t think anyone here would think badly of you, if you stopped repressing yourself,” Kevin explains. “We can all see you suffering, and we’re all worried about you.”

“Well,” Connor says, sitting up and putting his hands in his lap. “None of them have ever said anything about it before. Why are you?”

“Because,” Kevin says, “I care about each and every one of my fellow Mormons. And that means that I care about _you._ ”

“Oh,” Connor says.

“At the very least,” Kevin continues, “you don’t need to feel guilty over it anymore. I really doubt that Heavenly Father is going to judge you for something like that.”

“But the Book says- the rules say-”

Kevin smirks, and _oh,_ Connor has never seen that smirk before but he wants to see it again and again and again.

“ _Fuck_ the rules,” Kevin says, and Connor does _not_ whimper. Not even a little bit. Nope.

“I-I-I- I don’t,” Connor stutters.

“It’s something you can’t control, right?”

“Well- well, yes.”

“Then why would Heavenly Father have made you like this and then punish you for it?”

Connor doesn’t say anything to that. Kevin does have a pretty firm grasp of logic.

“I think,” Kevin says, “that you are perfect, Connor. Just the way you are.”

The sun seems to be burning up his neck and ears particularly strongly, now. Connor doesn’t know what this feeling is- it’s like happy, almost, but it’s too happy. His chest starts doing this strange thing that he can’t control, and before he knows it-

“Oh- okay, come here,” Kevin says, and pulls him over into a hug. Connor tucks his head into Kevin’s neck and- oh, that’s what he’s doing. He’s crying. But he’s happy, so shouldn’t he be not-crying? “Don’t Turn It Off,” Kevin says, holding him tightly. “What you need to do now is Let It Out, okay?”

“Okay,” Connor says, and does just that.

Kevin holds him until he stops crying, until he can breathe properly again. And even then, he doesn’t stop holding him.

“Um,” Connor says. “You can, um.”

“Right!” Kevin lets him go very suddenly. “Right, yes, sorry, I, uh. Right.”

“Thank you,” Connor says, looking down at his lap. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kevin says, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Friends help each other out, right?”

“Friends. Yeah.” Connor grins stupidly over at him. Kevin laughs. “So we’re friends?” he asks.

“Yes,” Kevin says. “Yes, we’re friends.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

o0O0o

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

Connor crosses his arms. Kevin sighs.

“Come on, just a sip. If you don’t like it, then I promise you’ll never have to drink it again.”

“You… promise?”

“Yes,” Kevin says, exasperated. “Just try it, come on.”

Connor glowers. “Fine.” He takes the cup of coffee and sniffs it. “Disgusting.” Kevin giggles.

“Go on.”

“I hate you.”

Kevin laughs at that.

Connor presses the cup to his lips and swallows a mouthful, and then slams the cup back down on the table, grimacing. “Oh, g- oh, no, that is _disgusting_. Never again, Kevin. I don’t know why I trusted you,” he says, feigning hurt.

“Fair enough,” Kevin says, shrugging. He takes the cup and swallows down a rather large gulp of coffee. “Oh, that caffeine boost is _perfect_ for the mornings.”

“You’re horrible.”

o0O0o

“No, no, silly. Your feet go _this_ way- no, cross that one. Right. Now. Put your toe to the ground, like that, yes. Good! Now the heel down, like that. Now do the same thing with your other foot.”

“I really doubt this is doing me any good,” Kevin says, as he tries and rather spectacularly fails to move his left foot accordingly.

“No, no, no, you’re doing wonderfully,” Connor assures him. “Here. Do it with your right foot again, you’re getting better.”

Kevin tries.

“I think I see the problem. You’re thinking too much about where your body’s supposed to be. Don’t think about that. Just do what feels natural. I mean, professionally, you’re not really supposed to move your upper body unless you’re choreographed to, but for now, it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, I think- I think I’ve got it. Just do it with me, okay?”

Connor counts them in, and they begin.

Pennies taped to the bottom of shoes make almost-tap-dancing-shoes. Connor, of course, has his pair of actual tap shoes, but they don’t wear the same size, so Kevin is reduced to the makeshift ones.

“Wonderful!” Connor says, after they try for a third time. “You’ve _almost_ got it.”

Kevin sighs. “We’ve been trying for almost an hour; I’m not going to be able to do this, not even with my right foot. And my right foot is my dominant foot.”

Connor shakes his head. “No, I believe in you. You have to believe in you. You’re good at believing, right, Kevin?”

Kevin considers this. “All right,” he says. “Count us in again.”

This time, he does it perfectly.

o0O0o

They steal the portable DVD player a few times- never on Sunday, of course- and sometimes spend nights out watching movies. Thanks to Arnold and his specific taste, they have all the choices in the world in terms of Sci-Fi. And thanks to Elder Schrader’s taste (and rather wonderful parents), they also have quite a few Disney movies.

Of course, Disney is very dear to Kevin’s heart, so they end up watching mostly animated movies.

They can’t exactly go into each other’s rooms at night, so they make plans to meet up at a certain time when everyone is asleep. They hide by the back of Nabulungi’s house, and sometimes she watches out the back window.

This time, they’re watching The Lion King.

Remarkably, Connor doesn’t cry when Mufasa dies.

No, Connor cries when Simba goes back home.

Thankfully, this time, Nabulungi is inside, deciding instead to sleep. She knows enough about Africa already.

When the movie is over, Connor is still sniffling.

“Hey,” he says, nudging his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Just- just- he went back,” Connor says, wiping his eyes. “When he thought it was his fault- it wasn’t, but he thought it was, and he’d been hiding in his guilt for so long, and then- and then he goes back anyway, even though he still feels guilty. And then he learns that he didn’t need to feel guilty all along, because it wasn’t his fault, and-” a rather large hiccup cuts him off.

Kevin smiles. “Good movie, though, hm?”

“Yes,” Connor admits, smiling through his still falling tears. “S-sorry, I just. I can’t make it stop.”

“That’s okay,” Kevin says. “It’s all fine.”

“I’m crying at a Disney movie,” Connor protests. “What part of that is ‘fine’?”

“You know the Disney movie I cry at?” Kevin says, turning the DVD player off and closing the lid.

“What?”

“The Emperor’s New Groove,” Kevin says, completely seriously.

“I haven’t seen that one,” Connor says, “but it doesn’t sound like a sort of… crying movie.”

“Next week, we’re watching it,” Kevin demands.

They do. And Kevin cries.

o0O0o

Elder Thomas corners him one evening in the kitchen, oddly upset.

“What did you do to Elder McKinley?” Elder Thomas demands.

“Uh- I- What?” Kevin sputters, finding himself very trapped beneath Elder Thomas’s stare.

“You must have done something to him,” Elder Thomas presses. “He had another nightmare last night, the first one he’s had in a while since- well, since.” They still haven’t found a name for Arnold’s fiasco. They might just end up calling it that, actually.

“And you think I had something to do with it?” Kevin asks, offended.

“He said your name,” Elder Thomas says, narrowing his eyes. “And it was your first name, too.”

“He had a nightmare about me?” Kevin repeats, suddenly horrified. “That’s- that’s awful, I have to go talk to him.”

“What did you do to him?” Elder Thomas repeats. “You must have done something; he hasn’t had a hell dream in a while, actually.”

“I talked to him,” Kevin admits. “I told him he didn’t have to feel guilty about himself, and I think that helped the dreams stop for a while.”

“Really?” Elder Thomas’s demeanor changes completely. “Maybe- maybe he was calling out to you for help in his dream.”

“Maybe. Oh, I need to talk to him, then. If he’s having bad dreams, that must mean something terrible. Where is he?” Kevin chewed his bottom lip.

“He went down to the Kafe,” Elder Thomas says. “Said he was going to go try coffee out.”

“But- oh, that’s not good. He doesn’t like it, he doesn’t even like the _smell_ of it,” Kevin muses. “I’ll go talk to him. Thank you, Elder Thomas, really.”

With that, he fastens his tie around his neck and hurries out into the open air.

He finds Connor sat next to three empty cups, with one in his hand.

“Connor!” He sits down next to Connor, nods at the woman working that yes, he’d like some coffee as well, and turns to his friend. “You- are you okay?”

“It’s actually quite good with sugar,” Connor says, draining the last of his cup.

“Elder Thomas told me you had another nightmare last night,” Kevin says, cutting to the chase. “You haven’t had one in weeks, what happened?”

“What?”

“He was really upset with me; apparently you said my name, and he thought I’d done something to you that triggered a nightmare.”

Connor goes an interesting shade of red and tries to hide underneath his empty cup.

“Connor, it’s okay. If I did something, please, tell me what it is. I’m sorry about it, whatever I’ve done.”

“Wasn’t a nightmare,” Kevin hears Connor mumble.

“You were thrashing around, Elder Thomas told me,” Kevin says. “You don’t have to be ashamed of them, Connor, you know that. They’re manifestations of guilt-”

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” Connor repeats, sitting up a little straighter.

“Then what-”

The woman places Kevin’s coffee down in front of him.

Connor pays her with a spare tie and she leaves.

“Connor,” Kevin starts, but doesn’t know where to finish.

“It’s fine,” Connor says, standing abruptly.

“You think of me like that?” Kevin asks, just to clarify.

“You want to know?”

“Tell me the truth. Do you think of me like that?” Kevin asks.

Connor sighs. “Yes,” he says, twisting his hands together. “But not just like- like that, okay? Like everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I like everything about you,” Connor says, figuring, to hell with it, he might as well. “The way you look, the way you laugh when you actually think something’s funny. The way you care about other people, care about me. I like all of those parts about you, and- and the… other parts, too.”

Kevin says nothing.

“But it’s fine,” Connor says, quickly. “We’re friends first, and I care about you too.” He bites his lip. “I’m not going to- to make a pass at you, or anything.”

“I didn’t say you would,” Kevin protests. “But Connor, I- you have to know that I’ve never- um.”

“I don’t- I’m not asking you to,” Connor interjects, panicking a little. What a pair they make.

“No, no, Connor, listen. I’ve never had a friend like you before,” he says. “That I’ve, you know, actually really cared about. It’s new. And I- I like it.” He smiles shyly. “And I’d never _ever_ had gay thoughts before because, well, I knew it was considered wrong. But you. You proved me wrong.”

“Kevin-”

“You didn’t Turn Me Off, you Turned Me On,” Kevin says, then pauses, wrinkling his nose. “No- no pun intended, sorry. Gosh, that sounded sort of weird.”

“Kevin.”

“But my _point is._ That. I.” Kevin swallows. “Think.”

“You think?”

“I think that. I think that you are _magnificent._ ”

“Kevin,” Connor says, stuck in his tracks.

“And I like every part of you, too,” Kevin finishes, glad he was able to save that train wreck of a speech. In his defense, he hadn’t exactly had much time to plan it.

“You do?”

“Yes. I do.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I…?”

“If you what?”

“If I did. Um.”

“Oh, for Heavenly Father’s sake,” Kevin grumbles. He gets up, grabs Connor’s tie, and plants a kiss forcefully onto his lips. Connor makes a sort of sound that Kevin doesn’t know how to describe, but adores immediately, and kisses him back.

“Oi! White boy!” the woman in the stand yells, waving at them. Reluctantly, Kevin breaks the kiss. “You pay for coffee now or I beat you with coffee pot!”

Right, he’d ordered coffee. Kevin finds thirty two cents in change in his left pocket and hands it over to the woman, who seems satisfied. He turns back to Connor, who is blushing redder than a Mormon in Uganda without sunscreen.

“The other Elders,” Connor says, and Kevin almost laughs at the fact that Connor’s first thought after a kiss that good is of what the rest of the Elders will think. “They’ll-”

“We don’t have to tell them if you don’t want us to,” Kevin says gently, taking Connor’s hand. “I won’t mind either way, so it’s up to you.”

“Can we- can we not? Just, for now?” Connor asks meekly.

“Sounds good to me.” Kevin kisses his nose, and Connor smiles.

o0O0o

When it happens, it happens dramatically and completely outside of their control.

Meaning, it happens because of Arnold.

They’ve been pretty sneaky so far about it, or so Kevin thinks. Always making sure that the room or general vicinity was empty before snatching a kiss, waiting until there’s a bottle of no-longer-taboo alcohol for them to share before stealing a room together for the night and claiming that they’d both wandered into the same room drunkenly as a mistake. As far as Kevin’s concerned, they’re completely hidden.

That is, until Arnold comes into the picture. Because when Arnold stumbles into the room they’ve found for themselves, he’s _actually_ drunk. And because he’s actually drunk, he finds no problem in announcing to the entire building that “HEY! ELDER MCPRICE- uh, ELDER PRICKINLY- no, hold on, that’s not right. YOU two,” he bellows, pointing at the bed, where _thank heavenly father_ there was a large blanket covering the two of them.

“Elder Cunningham,” they hear Elder Thomas call. “What- get back here, we’re playing polker- the last few rounds are double, because we can’t break the pop tarts in half anymore.”

“I FOUND THEM!” Arnold yells, calling over his shoulder.  “GUYS, COME LOOK AT THIS!”

Kevin and Connor look at each other, look at Arnold, and then look back at each other. There aren’t very many options; if Arnold wants something, he usually gets it. So the only option is to face the inevitable with at least a little bit of dignity. Luckily, their shirts and trousers are merely thrown off the side of the bed, instead of folded neatly by the door as is Kevin’s natural instinct. So by the time the rest of the Elders have temporarily abandoned their poker game, choosing instead to crowd around the door to see what Arnold is yelling about, they both have their clothes mostly on. Mostly, because neither of them have ties on.

“Elder McKinley,” Elder Thomas says. “And Elder Price.”

Kevin waves in a small, frightened way. “Hey.”

There are a few of the Elders who don’t know what’s going on, but that’s because they’re in the back and they don’t have a clear view. The rest of them, however, know exactly what’s going on.

“Right,” says Elder Church, pushing Arnold out of the way. Arnold doesn’t seem to care, as he starts humming some tune that none of them have ever heard of and wanders off. “First thing’s first. You two.” He points at Kevin and Connor, who look suitably embarrassed. “This is your room, now, got it? I don’t want this happening in any of our rooms.”

Connor blinks. “What?”

“Just- do it in this room, all right?” Elder Thomas agrees, looking over at Elder Church.

“But rule 28 says we’re supposed to room with our companions,” Kevin interjects. Connor resists the urge to kick him. Of course Kevin would think of the rules at a time like this, even if he was the one to insist that some of the rules didn’t matter.

“Then he can be your companion,” Elder Thomas says, shrugging. “Whatever makes you happy.”

“You’re not mad?” Connor asks, looking across the group of them.

“You’re the happiest you’ve been in months,” Elder Davis points out.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t, you know, make a lot of noise, we don’t care,” says Elder Neeley.

“Oh,” Kevin says, because he sort of expected this, but not really enough to be completely confident that it would happen.

“Okay,” Connor says. “That’s. That’s good.”

“YOU GUYS WERE PLAYING POKER?” they hear Arnold yell from the other room. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?”

“We did, you just wanted to- no, no, put that down, that’s the bartering- don’t eat the poptarts-” Elder Thomas rushes out of the crowd of Elders to go deal with Arnold.

“We should probably go finish our game,” says Elder Church, to the rest of the Elders. They all nod seriously. “Who was winning? I think it was Elder Schrader, but I’m not sure…”

Elder Michaels closes the door behind them all, and then Connor and Kevin are alone again.

“So,” Kevin says.

“So,” Connor agrees.

The next morning, none of them can keep from smiling.

o0O0o

Epilogue:

“I,” Connor says, barely able to contain his excitement as he leads Kevin by the arm, “have _such_ a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” Kevin asks, trying not to laugh as his arm is all but ripped from its socket. “And what would that be?”

“Nuh-uh, it’s a surprise, silly.”

Kevin laughs.

“Okay, okay,” Connor says, when they finally reach the bedroom. “It’s a share present.”

“Uh huh.” Kevin crosses his arms and leans back against the closed door. Connor rustles around in the dresser, pulling open drawers.

“I know I left it here, hold on, gimme a sec- here it is!” He emerges triumphantly with-

“Is that… a bottle of lube?” Kevin asks, slightly underwhelmed.

“Not just _any_ bottle of lube.” Connor’s eyes are wide. “It’s _water based_ lube. And I _blessed it._ ”

“You- you blessed it.”

“Now it’s _holy water based_ lube.”

Connor holds the bottle forward, excitement radiating off of him in waves. Kevin stops leaning on the wall.

“Can you even do that?” Kevin asks, taking the bottle and inspecting it. To any other onlooker, it would look like a normal bottle of lube. For gosh’s sake, it even looks like a normal bottle of lube to Kevin.

“Well, I figured.” Connor smiles at him. “You can bless water to make it holy, so if you’re using water based lube, technically you could bless that, too, right?”

Kevin snorts, and then he giggles, and then he laughs harder than he’s ever laughed before in his life. He backs up and uses the door for support as he clutches at his chest, unable to stop the peals of laughter from tumbling up his throat.

Gradually he becomes aware that he is the only one in the room who is laughing.

Kevin, fighting back giggles, straightens up and looks at Connor, who doesn’t seem to understand exactly why his boyfriend is laughing at him. Boyfriend. Man, that’s fun to think.

“Why are- do you not like it?” Connor asks, frowning a little.

“No, no, no,” Kevin says, shaking his head madly and handing back the bottle. Connor takes it dubiously. “No, it’s wonderful, Connor. _You’re_ wonderful.”

“So why were you laughing?”

“Because only you, Elder McKinley, would think of _blessing a bottle of water based lube._ ”

“We may as well call it by its proper title,” Connor points out.

“Sorry, right. The Holy Water Based Lube.”

“Do you think Elder Cunningham would put this in the fifth testament if he knew about it?”

“He put in Joseph Smith dying of diarrhea; I don’t think there’s much he wouldn’t put in his stories.”

“I suppose that is true.” Connor fiddles with the cap, twisting it on and off again. “So. You. You like it?””

“Of course I like it.” Kevin tugs Connor forward by his tie and kisses him gently. “It’s the best present I could ever have asked for.”

“Share present,” Connor reminds him sternly.

“Share present,” he agrees.  “I should give you something, then, shouldn’t I?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re supposed to give someone something in return when they give you a gift, right?” Kevin prompts.

“Well. Well, I suppose,” Connor says, unsure where the conversation is leading.

“Then let me give you something.”

“Give me?” Connor asks, still confused. Kevin decides that, as much as he loves Connor’s confused face, he much prefers Connor’s happy face. And so he tugs on the tie that is still clutched in his hand and kisses him soundly on the mouth again, but doesn’t pull away this time.

Connor remembers what air is after about thirty five seconds and breaks the kiss, looking sheepish.

“If,” Kevin says, “you want to use your Holy Water Based Lube-”

“Our Holy Water Based Lube.”

“ _Our_ Holy Water Based Lube. If you want to use _our_ Holy Water Based Lube, then I think you would use it best from the upper… position.”

“You want me to top?” Connor clarifies. “But won’t you…?”

Kevin shakes his head firmly. “I know it’s something you want,” he says. “And I can’t live in fear anymore.”

“Are you sure about this?” Connor asks, and it makes Kevin’s heart do something he can’t really identify because gosh, Connor really cares about him and wants to make sure he’s okay and that’s just never _happened_ to Kevin before.

“Yes,” he insists, kissing Connor’s nose. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll be fine. I’ll have you, won’t I?”

“Yes, you will,” Connor says, nodding seriously. “Always.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote the epilogue first because of the idea of holy water based lube, and then the other 6k just sort of... happened.


End file.
